


Your Princess Is In Another Castle

by wtfkovah



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crack, Dragon Jihoon, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship, Prince Seungcheol, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfkovah/pseuds/wtfkovah
Summary: Naively, he’d been holding out hope for a more exciting visitor today; perhaps a passing merchant from far off lands selling their wares, or an injured forest creature seeking safe shelter. He’d even welcome the return of the evil Sorceress that ate all bacon and cursed him with eternal dimples, but alas, no.It’s just another ‘brave’ Knight on a ‘noble’ quest to slay him.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 262





	Your Princess Is In Another Castle

**Author's Note:**

> RE-UPLOAD

Jihoon has _just_ sat down to have breakfast, his mind more or less blank, mired in a post-sleep haze, when something or _someone_ triggers the tripwire leading up to the cavern's entrance and puts him on high alert.

Setting his fork down, he waits quietly for the intruder to declare themselves.

There's silence for a few moments, as though whoever it is, is bracing themselves. Then, a booming voice, hardly wavering at all, calls out: "Show yourself Dragon! A worthy opponent awaits. I will rid the good people of this town of your menacing presence!"

With a heartfelt sigh, Jihoon pushes his breakfast aside and rises from the table.

Naively, he’d been holding out hope for a more exciting visitor today; perhaps a passing merchant from far off lands selling their wares, or an injured forest creature seeking safe shelter. He’d even welcome the return of the evil Sorceress that ate all bacon and cursed him with eternal dimples, but alas, _no_.

It’s just another ‘brave’ Knight on a ‘noble’ quest to slay him.

Just you’re average Monday morning really. _Well_ ….an average Monday morning for a young _Dragon_ like himself at least.

He’s never advertised what he is—never set towns aflame or devoured livestock or hoarded gold, but neither has he bothered to disguise his true nature either, which has somehow ensured that most of Kingdom knows, and frequently shows up to bother him about it. And usually with _pitchforks_.

Despite his best efforts to ward people away with booby traps and sigils, and warning sighs— _‘Here be a small harmless dragon. Leave me alone’_ —he is still inundated with visitors with murderous intentions.

He’d happily give a talk to the townspeople on how harmless he is, if he thought it would help allay their concerns. But he’s already tried that and, sadly, nobody showed up.

Even though he brought his famous raisin and oatmeal _cookies_.

It’s grossly unfair, he thinks, to have garnered such a malicious reputation when all he’s ever done is live quite peacefully in his little cave, but tradition is tradition he supposes. So with no point in delaying the inevitable, Jihoon tucks away his wings and steps toward the mouth of the cave, preparing to spool out his usual speech, puff out a few warning flames.

His train of thought is quickly derailed however, when he steps outside and sets eyes on the intruder.

Instead of the Knight in head-to-toe chain mail he was expecting, there’s a right dashing man standing outside—garbed entirely in black, except for a set of very shiny, gold epaulets on his shoulders, and a rather fetching red sash stretched across his chest. He’s approximately a foot taller than Jihoon, and twice as broad in the shoulders, with a clean, sharp jaw, full lips and dark, doe eyes, and _oh_ —it would be a crying shame to see all that reduced to greasy ashes.

 _He must be a Prince_ —Jihoon thinks— _or perhaps even a King?_

There is definitely an air of superiority in the man standing tall and proud at the foot of the cave. Though on closer inspection, he seems to be a complete idiot too.

"Is that an enchanted sash you’re wearing?” Jihoon asks, eyeing the handsome stranger warily.

The newcomer blinks at Jihoon as he gives him slow once over—no doubt taking in his unique form: the small wings, the pointy horns and, if Jihoon says so himself, his rather impressive tail.

"Uh, no," the newcomer says at last. "It's just a regular sash."

Jihoon smiles, quite demurely; all for show. "Well, the jacket then; it’s a magical one isn’t it? Impervious to flames I suspect.”

“Nope. It’s just a regular jacket too.”

Jihoon’s mouth twists to one side as he frowns. “Please tell me you’re at least suitably _armed_ for the occasion. Only an idiot would have come to face a Dragon empty handed.”

The man shrugs, canting his hip forward to show a sheathed sword, as though that would do him any good. "I have a diamond encrusted sword. I’m told it’s impervious to flames and can cut clean through any dragon’s hide."

"Well you’ve been misinformed," Jihoon says sharply. Not that he’s ever had to face a diamond encrusted sword before, but the man facing him can't know that. "Now since your clearly inadequately prepared for what lies ahead, I suggest you leave before you get turned into lunch."

“ _Lunch_?” The man echoes, arching a single eyebrow before he breaks into an unrepentant and, frankly, too smug grin, “I doubt that. I’ll have you know I’m the most skilled swordsman in the land, with an attack strike even quicker and more deadlier than a Viper’s.”

Jihoon barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Is that so?”

The man nods, the firm nod of someone far too confident in his own success.

“Yes, it is so. Allow me to demonstrate.” He says, then before Jihoon can from a protest, he unsheathes his sword and begins to go through the motions of the practice dance. Slicing the sword through the air with a skillful, albeit unnecessarily elaborate display.

Jihoon has always found this posturing part of the introductions dreadfully dull, but this time he finds himself captivated by the grace of the man's motion, the snake-fast strikes of his sword.

He’s clearly a damn good swordsman.

Still, not to seem _too_ impressed. Jihoon claps slowly when the display comes to an end.

"Oh wow. Impressive indeed. That bit of empty air is well and truly defeated. You’ll be on your way now that you’ve proven yourself adept at vanquishing invisible foes."

Grinning, the man simply re-sheathes his sword and bows, "Thank you," he says, apparently impervious to _sarcasm_.

Jihoon sighs mentally.

It's going to turn into one of _those_ morning’s, he can just tell.

“Listen here swordsman, please leave. There’s nothing here for you. No treasure to behold or prize to be won or enemy for you to defeat.”

The man's chin jerks up. "That’s not what I heard. I was told there was a deadly Dragon infesting this cave, that he had taken a beautiful Princess captive and I am here to rescue her." He gives Jihoon a looking over, a small furrow forming in his brow. "I’m assuming that is you—so please, Princess, find shelter somewhere amongst those trees while I go inside and slay this dragon. Then we may depart together for my Kingdom and be wed." He says, and that's so ridiculous that Jihoon thinks he may just have to turn bright red and scream about it.

“What! Are you blind as well as stupid? I’m not the Princess! I'm the _dragon_ you idiot!” Jihoon barks, feeling his cheeks flush.

Quirking an eyebrow, the man purses his lips, “Really?”

Jihoon sighs heavily, may as well get this done properly.

"Yes—really. I’m Jihoon, the merciless, evil Dragon that lives in this cave and drives fear into the hearts of all the townspeople, charmed to make your acquaintance." He blows a small flame from between his lips in warning.

He’s not above scaring an opponent with the occasional flash of yellow eyes, or quiet smouldering. The forest creatures don't always thank him for that. But Jihoon supposes that's a small price to pay for peace and solitude.

"Oh. Well—nice to meet you, I’m King Seungcheol," the newcomer says, not taking the hint but actually _introducing_ himself instead with a courteous bow. Jihoon is most certainly _not_ charmed. "From the Kingdom of….” he hesitates, then shakes his head. “—Really? _You're_ the dragon?"

Jihoon pinches the bridge of his nose. This has never happened before; normally the potential hero’s only need to take one look at him before retreating with stammered apologies or charging forward into battle. This man seems oddly intrigued by him though.

“Was the fiery breath not _evidence_ enough for you? How about this then?” He turns his back to Seungcheol to flap his wings and swings his tail purposefully into view. They _are_ very scaled down versions of what a full-sized dragon would possess, but they have served Jihoon well and he’s proud of them.

When he spins to face Seungcheol once more, the man has gone satisfyingly slack jawed. And _there’s_ that disbelieving crease of forehead, Jihoon observes with a heavy heart. Whatever Seungcheol’s going to do next, it can't be something that Jihoon hasn't had done to him a disheartening number of times before.

There will be stabbing, and punching, and slicing at Jihoon’s little wings. And after Jihoon reduces the man to ashes, he’ll have to retreat into the forest to heal, before the cycle starts all over again.

But instead of drawing his sword again, Seungcheol surprises him. His eyes sweep up and down Jihoon’s frame, and if Jihoon isn't mistaken, his ears flush, ever so slightly.

" _Wow_ ," he says, voice gone a tad hoarse. “You really _are_ a dragon.”

“Yes, I’m _really_ a dragon.” Jihoon makes no attempt to mask the dryness in his voice. “Now, I don’t want any trouble, so if you’ll just be on your—"

“That’s _amazing_!” Seungcheol interjects, grinning from ear to ear. “I expected the dragon to be some sort of huge, scaly creature, with sharps claws and even sharper teeth that would reduce me to ash in five seconds flat. But, you’re, you’re…”

Jihoon shuts his eyes, expecting the usual associations: monstrous, hideous, _grotesque_ —an abomination of nature. Somebody called him fat once— _they didn’t survive._

“…. _lovely_.” Seungcheol finishes breathlessly.

Jihoon’s eyes snap open. Though he’s quite used to defying other people's expectations, and assumptions, of being what he _isn't_ meant to be, this is not how it’s supposed to go at all, and he finds himself abruptly and unexpectedly scandalised by the comment.

“I can still reduce you to cinders if you like.” He huffs, turning bright red and flexing his wings. “Just step closer.”

Seungcheol does, in fact, step closer.

The _fool_.

He even reaches out a hand to _touch him_.

“Hey, no— _stop_.” Jihoon murmurs, curling in on himself. “Can’t you see I’m a dangerous dragon. Do you have a death wish or something?”

“No, I was just hoping to get a closer _look_ at you.” Seungcheol’s voice is energetic, almost _giddy_. He blinks at Jihoon, looking quite a bit younger suddenly, “Could you flutter your wings for me again?”

Smoke flares out of Jihoon's nostrils at the suggestion.

Jihoon does not _flutter_ his wings.

He flaps them— _majestically_.

Okay, maybe he does flutter them a little, but only in private.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” Seungcheol says, smiling ruefully. “I don’t mean to be so forward, but you’re the first dragon I’ve ever seen and, well, you’re not at all how I _expected_ you to look.” His smile curves into his face, big enough to go past threatening straight into ridiculous.

It’s Jihoon’s turn to blink.

This is not how it usually goes, but here he is.

“So, do you…. still intend to slay me?” He murmurs tentatively.

“Heavens no.” Seungcheol says hurriedly, hand dismissing the notion with some force. “I have completely lost the desire to do that. How could I? Look at you.”

Jihoon scratches the tip of one horn, bemused. “Oh, well—in that case, I suppose I should invite you in for tea or something. Would you like some tea?”

Seungcheol’s smile grows impossibly wider at that. “I’d _love_ some tea. I’ve had a very long journey.”

With great dignity, Jihoon folds his wings and ushers Seungcheol inside, smiling as the man steps past him confidently, and very wisely leaves his sword at the foot of the cave.

* * *

Jihoon’s kitchen, ill-furnished as it is, is still the best place in the cavern to have human visitors. Even though the only available chairs are rocks, and the table is a _slightly bigger_ rock, the wood burning stove in the corner keeps it pleasantly warm, and the sunlight that filters through the holes carved in the wall glints off the neat row of copper pots and pans, making it feel homely.

Jihoon spends most of his time in here, usually cooking and baking, but also hanging and drying the medicinal plants he forages from the forest, preparing them to be sold to the passing merchants that are less picky about trading with little dragons. Still—it’s been a while since he had a visitor venture this far without malicious intentions, and he finds himself growing anxious as Seungcheol stops just inside the archway, taking a moment to glance around at his meagre possessions with surprised interest.

"Your introduction ended rather abruptly earlier," Jihoon says, blowing a flame onto some firewood, and setting a pot of water to heat. "King Seungcheol, of...?"

“Oh, yes! How very rude of me." Seungcheol holds out a hand, which surprises Jihoon, because from everything he's ever been taught, people don't usually _touch_ Dragons. But Seungcheol's hand is warm and hard for a moment, until it relaxes, judges how much grip to use and then shakes.

It feels normal and nice, for a strange, extended moment, and Jihoon finds himself—not smiling exactly—but something less wary than he was before.

"I’m _crown prince Seungcheol_ , technically. My father is still on the throne. King Seungcheol just had a better ring, though." He shrugs affably, "Dress for the job you want, that sort of thing."

Jihoon snorts quiet laughter.

“Fair enough. Well, _Crown Prince Seungcheol_ , as you can see—no _princess_. Your princess is in another castle—or uhm cave. Or wherever it is princesses lurk.” Jihoon tells him. Though it sounds less amused than it tries for.

“Hmm, I thought all Dragons guarded princesses.” Seungcheol wonders out loud.

“That’s not true at all.” Jihoon says, picking up a dishcloth to dust off one of his cups, “It really depends on the dragon. Some hoard gold, some burn down entire villages and eat livestock. A rare few actually bother to imprison princesses; it’s a demanding job and the reward isn’t exactly all _that_. Princesses are very-high maintenance, you know.”

Seungcheol smirks, like he agrees wholeheartedly to the high maintenance of princesses.

“Which one are you then? If you’re not the princess imprisoning variety.”

“Oh, I don’t really fall into any of those categories actually. Hoarding gold sounds like far too much work, and there isn’t much livestock to be found in these hills. I just try and live a peaceful life here in my cave. I’m only _half-dragon_ , as you can probably tell.”

Seungcheol tilts his head to one side, looking at Jihoon with renewed interest. “Yes, uh—I couldn’t help but notice you have a lot of _human_ features. How is that possible—If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, it’s a funny story actually.” Jihoon begins with a smile, realising belatedly that—Oh, wait. No it’s not. He coughs to clear his throat. “My father was a dragon, and my mother was a princess.”

Squinting, Seungcheol tilts his head. “Wait—so how did they…”

Jihoon sets down the cups he's drying with slightly more force than necessary. “Don’t ask.”

“Ok.” Seungcheol nods quickly, mortification blooming on his face.

“Don’t get me wrong, they were very much in love. I just prefer not to dwell on the obvious technical _difficulties_ of their relationship.” Jihoon laughs awkwardly.

He doesn't know why he's even bothering to share his life story. Nobody will understand.

He makes himself focus his attention on the tea instead; steeping the sack of leaves into the hot water and arranging his best cups on a small tray. He even fetches some cookies from his treat-tin that he baked yesterday, laying them out artfully on a plate. They’re his mother’s recipe, so he knows they taste great, even if they are a little _lopsided_. But no matter—Jihoon thinks their lop-sidedness gives them a quaint homemade charm that all homemade things are supposed to possess.

The teapot is scorching hot when he carries it over to the tray, and it’s good thing he sets it down before he feels the touch of a hand to his shoulder. As it is, he almost topples the tray over in surprise—but Seungcheol's hand comes to grab his wrist, quick as thought, saving Jihoon from a terrible scalding.

“Sorry,” Seungcheol flashes a brief smile, releasing Jihoon’s wrist quickly, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I only intended to help.”

Jihoon blinks up at him, feeling his cheeks surge with heat. Their faces are far too close for his peace of mind, close enough that he can see the fan of Seungcheol’s stupidly long lashes, smell the dust and sweat of long, weary travel.

"Oh, ah—that’s very kind. Thank you," He whispers, curiously out of breath all of a sudden.

Ducking his head sheepishly, Seungcheol takes a step back, putting some distance between them, but he does help Jihoon take the tea to the table a moment later, where they take their first, cautious sip in silence.

There is an awkward moment where neither of them knows quite what to say.

Jihoon prepares himself for the inevitable infuriation of small talk, which will be infuriating because Jihoon is: a) limited with the knowledge of what humans discuss, and b) infuriated by small talk at the best of times.

Thankfully, Seungcheol is the first to put his tea down. “So, why do you live out here in the middle of nowhere? I mean—this is a very nice cave and all, but surely you would be more comfortable living in a town somewhere. I passed plenty of nice houses on my way here.”

Jihoon flicks a wing-tip, dismissing that line of thought entirely.

“I doubt I’d be welcome in any town or village if I’m being honest, and this place is much safer than any house I could find. Well, it _used_ to be a reasonably safe, until some ramblers venturing through the woods a few months ago _spotted_ me. They fled before I could say a word, and ever since I’ve had several brave Knights arrive to slay me. I suppose that should be reason enough for me to pack up and leave, but this cave is my home, where I feel closest to my parents.”

A shadow of concern dances across the prince’s fine features. “What happened to them?”

“Oh, uhm, well—” Words well up in Jihoon’s throat, jumbled and out-of-order, wanting to spill yet unable to.

He's never really had to opportunity to tell anyone his full story. Granted, nobody has ever bothered to ask, or waited around long enough to hear it. But when he chances a quick glance at his visitor, he finds Seungcheol looking at him expectantly—expression open, eyes wide. Genuinely invested in whatever he has to say.

Jihoon doesn't know _where_ to start, but he forces himself to continue.

“We used to live together in this cave quite happily for many years. Then one day, a nobleman such as yourself came to rescue my mother and, _unfortunately_ , slayed my father in the process. I was allowed to live on the condition that my mother accompany the man back to his Kingdom to become his wife, and so I was left behind, and I’ve lived here ever since. So you see, this is the only home I know, and I have nowhere else to go.”

Seungcheol’s nose scrunches when he frowns. Jihoon works hard not to find that adorable.

“That’s…. _god_ , that’s awful.” It sounds like he’s grinding his teeth together. “They just left you here? Alone?”

Jihoon stares down at the tea in cup, face pinched. “I suppose there wasn’t much choice. I can’t exactly _blend_ in with the other dragons, they just try and eat me, and as you can plainly see, I don’t pass for human either. I can hide my tail and wings well enough under a cloak, but there isn’t a hat big enough to hide my horns.” He gestures at his horns with his unoccupied hand. “So, here I am.”

“It’s a shame you have to hide them at all.” Seungcheol says, staring up at Jihoon’s horns with a sudden and unnerving sort of focus. “They’re beautiful.”

Jihoon takes a hasty gulp of the tea that barely knocks the edge off the brutal thirst suddenly sticking in the back of his throat. It’s still too hot to comfortably drink, but burning his tongue serves as a good distraction from the little shiver of happiness slinking up his spine.

“They serve their purpose.” he says archly. But a breath's space later he adds, quieter, “They’re a little on the small side, but I suppose they’re in proportion to the rest of me.”

“Hmm, you _are_ very small for a dragon. You’re very small for a human _too_ , come to think of it. It’s rather enchanting.” Seungcheol sighs wistfully, taking a slow sip of his tea. A moment later he catches himself _still_ staring and looks away quickly, his face bright, vibrant red in the dim light. "So," he clears his throat as he looks around, clearly casting for a change of subject. "Do you uhm, do you possess the usual dragon-like abilities?”

Jihoon bites his lip briefly as he considers his answer.

The wisest thing to say would be _nothing_.

Informing a veritable stranger what sort of fiery, gravity defying talents he possesses is just the sort of thing that could get him in very real danger. As far as he knows, Dragon’s are still enslaved in some Kingdoms, forced to use their gifts to defeat armies and win wars.

His father had always taught him to be wary of anyone who showed to much interest in his abilities, but for some reason he can’t imagine Seungcheol having a hidden agenda. He’s been frightfully up-front so far, so Jihoon decides to go with some frightful honesty himself.

“I can fly, but only short distances because my wings are small. And I can set fire to things, even without trying—which you might think is useful, but really it can be very bothersome.” Especially when you’re trying to make the bed.”

Seungcheol chuckles, scratching his chin thoughtfully. Even in the relative dimness of the cave, Jihoon can’t deny how handsome he is. As a half-dragon, he’d always privately wondered if he would ever be capable of feeling attraction. He certainly doesn’t find _dragons_ attractive…that would be weird, but with all the threats of slaying and slaughter that arrive at his doorstep, he didn’t expect to ever find a _human_ attractive.

With utmost politeness Jihoon asks, “May I enquire as to what has put you on this quest?", because he’d rather be talking than acknowledge the first bubblings of attraction that he is beginning to feel.

Seungcheol blinks, a little thrown by the sudden change. “My father, actually. He thinks it will be character building if I slay a dragon and return a hero to our people. He was also hoping I’d find a princess and bring her home to marry. Two birds with one stone I suppose.”

Jihoon holds back a disapproving face. “And your father is King of which Kingdom?”

“The Kingdom to the south.”

“Really?” Jihoon says with much excitement. “I’ve never been there, but I hear their Great Library has the biggest collection of books in the world!”

“You like books?” Seungcheol’s voice is tinged with bemusement, but if Jihoon isn't wrong-and he rarely is, about such things-also with genuine interest.

“Oh yes, very much. My—my mother used to read to me when I was little,” Jihoon says, heartfelt. He curls his tail around his legs instinctively. “But I haven’t had much luck reading myself. Paper is very flammable.”

The expression Seungcheol's wearing now is hard to read, there's surprise there, but also something amused and a little helpless.

"Shall I make us some more tea?" Jihoon says finally, to break the sudden unbearable silence. "I feel like that first brew was a little weak. And if you don’t like the cookies I made, I baked a fresh loaf this morning for my breakfast, I could toast you some?"

Instead of agreeing to anything, Seungcheol blurts out, “May I touch your horns?”

Jihoon is sure there's a sensible answer to that. _Somewhere_.

The sensible answer is probably no, or even setting Seungcheol on fire for the very idea.

“Why would you want to do that?” He finds himself answering instead, because he’s genuinely curious. “They won’t grant you any special abilities you know. They’re just horns.”

“I appreciate that,” Seungcheol says, a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his head. “But they look _fascinating_ , and I may never get another opportunity to touch a dragon again. Without dying that is.”

“Uhm. Okay then.” Jihoon says, and not as reluctantly as he'd worried it might come out.

Jihoon’s horns are usually nerveless, but when Seungcheol curves a warm palm around one and strokes his thumb upwards, a pleasant shiver rolls through Jihoon’s body.

Seungcheol catches his thumb on the pointy end and flinches slightly. “Wow, they’re really sharp.”

"That's their main selling point, yes,” Jihoon drawls, the tip of his tail tapping against the floor. He hesitates slightly before adding, “They’re for goring through stubborn materials, like armor.”

Seungcheol doesn’t seem to be deterred in the slightest, making no move to step away from the sharp pointy things in self-preservation or anything. In fact, his other hand comes to join the first, petting the horns gently, long fingers turning Jihoon’s hair into some sort of insane collection of half-curls.

He moves into Jihoon’s wings next— _without permission._

Jihoon gasps, his lips parting in surprise when warm fingers follow the delicate lines of blue veins down his wingspan. Seungcheol hums something agreeable, fingers rubbing at the edges of one wing with the faintest pressure that sends shivery ripples down Jihoon’s spine.

He’s touched his own wings before, but Seungcheol touching them is suddenly, inexplicably intimate, in a way he's not sure should be allowed.

Jihoon thinks he should object, but it’s like his wings have developed a mind of their own. They give one slow shiver and very slowly lift and open wider, easing back within reach. 

When Seungcheol raises his hand to stroke them again, Jihoon’s wings move into his touch. They press into his fingers like they can't help it, can't resist the slow upward push that leaves his skin tingling and his fingers verging on numb.

Jihoon manages half an inhale before it cracks and turns into some sort of gasping moan and there's absolutely no way Seungcheol can miss it.

Seungcheol goes very still, in a way that feels surprised. "Is this uncomfortable for you?"

Uncomfortable isn't the word Jihoon would have used. "It’s different." He offers.

With what seems like great reluctance, Seungcheol pulls away.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. I’ve never had the opportunity to examine a set of wings before. They’re—they’re very beautiful.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and hushed; it nonetheless echoes in the cavern. 

“ _Honestly_.” Jihoon drawls, ~~fluttering his wings bashfully~~ — _FLAPPING HIS WINGS MAJESTICALLY._

* * *

Jihoon’s not sure how long they spend sitting there, in his little kitchen, chatting away. But at some point Jihoon’s stomach grumbles and Seungcheol’s eyebrows rise involuntarily.

Jihoon gets the impression Seungcheol's waiting for Jihoon to attack him—that he's resigned himself to the possibility of it. The sharp shift in his expression is obvious. And _yet_ ….he smiles at Jihoon, almost fondly.

Jihoon watches as the Prince takes a huge breath, tightens his hands and then lets it out.

“I should go, I have abused your hospitality long enough. Thank you for inviting me in, and for the tea and the toast. I feel strengthened for my journey home.” Seungcheol looks down at his boots, frowning slightly. “I hope I haven’t offended you by trying to slay you earlier.”

Jihoon ~~flutters~~ flaps his wings, an airy gesture. “Oh _no_. Not at all—I’m used to it.”

Seungcheol gives him a sad little half smile, then reaches out to ruffle his hair affectionately.

Jihoon’s breath catches in his throat, “W-what will you say to your father when you return?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Seungcheol says, mouth quirking oddly, amusement and irritation in one. “I’d prefer to tell him the truth, but I doubt he’ll believe it. He’s expecting me to bring home a beautiful princess.”

“Hold on.” Jihoon says. He retreats into the darkness of the cave to fetch a Dragon egg hidden behind a rock. He dusts it off and returns to Seungcheol, offering it to the Prince. “Maybe this will help.”

Seungcheol accepts the egg with a bewildered expression. His head tilts, black hair covering one of his eyes.

“What is it?”

Jihoon rubs his elbow anxiously, “It’s a petrified dragon egg. My father left it for me when he passed, you can show it to your father and perhaps fabricate some story about slaying a dragon. I don’t know what you’ll tell him about your missing princess, but I’m sure you can think of something.”

Seungcheol gives him a concerned, squinty look. “I can’t take this Jihoon,” He croaks. “Your father left it for _you_ , it would be wrong of me to rob you of it.”

“No, it’s fine, honestly,” Jihoon dismisses, tail curling and uncurling self-consciously. “I don’t have much use for it anyway. It just sits in the corner all day, gathering dust. And it really doesn’t suit the décor of my cave.” He tries for a grin, knowing but not caring that it will break out his cursed dimples.

Seungcheol laughs at that and steps close to Jihoon again, close enough that Jihoon has to swing his tail behind him lest it get in the way. Seungcheol strokes a thumb across one of Jihoon’s cheekbones, a strange, dreamy gesture.

“You’ve got _dimples_. That—that says it all really.”

It is such an odd thing to say, and yet Jihoon is charmed by it, and is sure that Seungcheol can see this in his face. Still, he says, “And horns—to _gore_ people with.”

Seungcheol just laughs in response, bowing diplomatically. “Thank you for your company today Jihoon. I bid you a peaceful day.”

Jihoon blushes and bows back.

He will privately admit to being a _little_ charmed with the unnecessary curtsying.

Only a tad.

* * *

After Seungcheol leaves, Jihoon goes back to his breakfast.

What's _left_ of breakfast anyway.

It's mostly cold now, but he's poured himself a fresh cup of tea. People always seem to come during breakfast. He has to wonder whether that's anything to do with the commonly held belief that dragons are sleepy and lethargic in the morning. Technically, they're not wrong. 

He's in the middle of clearing up, when a crack of twigs outside snaps him from his dish-drying reverie.

Could it be?

Another challenger? And so _soon_.

Groaning, Jihoon rummages through the kitchen, grabbing an extremely heavy cast-iron frying pan as he storms towards the entrance. He finds he does less permanent harm with blunt weapons then his own unique abilities, and the more survivors he allows to retreat to lick their wounds, the more likely they’ll warn the others off from coming.

He puffs little gusts of steam through his nose and stands just behind the lip of the cave and listens. It appears to be just one man approaching; a single, steady crunch of footsteps moving up the hill, drawing closer to the cave.

Taking position, pan at the ready, Jihoon tiptoes, raises his arm… but the man appears at the mouth of the cave, and he’s stunned to find it’s _Seungcheol_.

Jihoon drops the pan with a curse, jumping away instinctively lest it land on his foot.

Seungcheol nearly does the same with the strange hat he’s holding, but Jihoon captures it before it can fall.

"Seungcheol? What—what the hell are you _doing_ back here?” Jihoon demands.

Seungcheol remains oddly silent for a moment and has the minimal good grace to look embarrassed. “I can’t do it,” His voice is soft, blessedly, a relief after all the racket echoing in the cavern. “I can’t leave yet.”

Jihoon waits for the rest of this explanation, but it's not coming. Seungcheol's just looking at him, eyes huge in the dimness of the cave.

“So, you decided to come back and slay me after all?” Jihoon prompts, lips trembling, sniffing a little. How foolish of him to think he might have made a friend.

“What? No, no, of course not.” Seungcheol's nose wrinkles, like he _abhors_ the very idea. “I came back to tell you that….I live in a huge castle!”

Jihoon can’t help but frown then.

Seungcheol clearly expects him to be _impressed_ by that.

Jihoon can’t believe he came back here just to boast. He even brought a fancy bucket hat. It’s probably Seungcheol’s hat, that he’ll boast about too in a minute.

“Good for you.” Jihoon says dryly.

Seungcheol’s shoulders slump. “No, what I mean is, it’s massive. There’s plenty of space. There are tall spires that nobody lives in and big, empty caverns underground that are peaceful and quiet.”

“ _So_?”

“ _So_ ,” Seungcheol intones, taking the hat from Jihoon and fitting it over his head. Miraculously, it fits, horns and all. “I think you should come live with me in my castle.” He says firmly, taking hold of Jihoon’s shoulders.

Jihoon certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Oh," he says.

Seungcheol seems to think that's a bad 'oh.' Which he immediately tries to rectify.

“I promise you nobody will bother you, if you don’t want them to. I’ll bother you of course, because we’ll be spending _time_ together. But I hope you won’t see it as a bother, because we’ll have _fun_. And you’ll have shelter and food and books and company if you want it. You can fly peacefully over my land and sleep undisturbed. Until I disturb you, obviously. But you won’t be harmed, and when _I’m_ King, I’ll outlaw dragon slaying. I’m even thinking of building a Dragon sanctuary, for half dragons like you.”

Seungcheol makes it sound like an adventure, and Jihoon isn't sure how he’s supposed to resist the idea. He can't help but laugh a little though, at how preposterous it all sounds. It’s a lovely idea, certainly, but…

"— _why_? We only just met a few hours ago. Why would you offer to do any of that for me?” He asks, but it comes out unsteady, almost a whisper.

Seungcheol's hands curl into fists, and then relax. Jihoon can almost sense him steeling himself for _something._ Perhaps half-way to forgetting whatever madness took him, or pretending it had never been.

“Honestly?” Seungcheol says eventually. There's a frown and an odd, confused gesture before he blushes.“I mistook you for a princess, and I’m pretty sure my father would to. And you _did_ say your mother was a princess, so that technically makes you a _dragon prince_ , and so I was thinking, maybe we could….” He trails off with a sly grin, and then he _winks_ at Jihoon.

Jihoon takes a moment to let that sink in.

And when it does sink in, when he finally catches on to Seungcheol’s meaning—he ~~flutters~~ FLAPS HIS WINGS MAJESTICALLY.

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be another crack fic. I had originally written this for a Jicheol day prompt, but I had big plans for a continuation. Where Hoon and Cheol venture across the Kingdom and pick up travelling compaions along the way, like Jeonghan the elf, Shua the Healer, Wonwoo the Wizard, Mingyu the Half-Giant, Soonyoung the Shifter, Junhui the Thief etc. I never got around to it, but...maybe one day ;)


End file.
